


Hunted (SEASON TWO, EPISODE TEN)

by ackles_ass_equation



Series: Superghetto [33]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Azazel's Special Children, Canon Related, Episode: s02e10 Hunted, Gordon Being an Asshole, Protective Ellen, Screenplay/Script Format
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-03
Updated: 2016-06-03
Packaged: 2018-07-12 00:42:07
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 7,225
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7077451
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ackles_ass_equation/pseuds/ackles_ass_equation
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam meets a biatch whoz ass shares his crazy-ass mobilitizzle ta have visions, n' dat biiiiatch warns his ass dat dat freaky freaky biatch has peeped tha future... where he takes a thugged-out dirt nap up in a explosion.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. NOW

INT. PSYCHIATRIST'S OFFICE - DAY  
Dr. Shiiit, dis aint no joke. George Waxler, M.D. (accordin ta tha bidnizz card on tha table) is chillin across from his thugged-out lil' patient, Scott Carey fo' realz. A tape recorder sits on tha table between dem wild-ass muthafuckas. 

Soundtrack: "White Rabbit" by Jefferson Airplane skits over tha followin scene.

 **WAXLER  
** Don't be afraid, Scott. Yo ass can tell me anything, you know dis shit. Whatever you say won't leave dis room.

 **SCOTT**  
It started a lil over a year ago. Migraines at first. Then I found I could do . . . stuff.

 **WAXLER  
** What do you mean, "do stuff"?

 **SCOTT  
** I have dis ability. When I bust a nut on something, I can electrocute it if I want. 

 **WAXLER**  
How tha fuck do you know?

 **SCOTT**  
I done did it ta tha neighborz cat. Its insides fried up like a hamburger n' shit. 

WAXLER frowns n' takes a note, his wild lil' grill passive.

 **SCOTT**  
Yo ass don't believe mah dirty ass.

 **WAXLER  
** I believe dat you believe dat shit. 

 **SCOTT**  
(leans forward, extendin his hand)  
Then here, so peek-a-boo, clear tha way, I be comin' thru fo'sho. Wanna shake on it?

 **WAXLER  
** Why would you wanna bust a cap up in tha neighborz cat?

 **SCOTT**  
I don't yo. Dude wants me to, n' da ruffneck don't want me ta stop there, so peek-a-boo, clear tha way, I be comin' thru fo'sho. 

 **WAXLER  
** Who?

 **SCOTT**  
Da yellow-eyed man. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch yo. Dude comes ta me up in mah dreams. Boy it's gettin hot, yes indeed it is. Tells me ta do thangs, wack thangs. But I tell his ass no, no, I don't want to!

 **WAXLER  
** What else do tha yellow-eyed playa tell yo slick ass?

 **SCOTT**  
Dude . . . dat schmoooove muthafucka has plans fo' mah dirty ass. 

 **WAXLER  
** What kind of plans?

EXT. PARKING LOT - NIGHT  
SCOTT is struttin ridin' solo under a thugged-out dark n' creepy train track yo. Dude hears something.

**SCOTT**   
Hello?

As he gets ta his car, da perved-out muthafucka sees a thugged-out dark figure reflected up in tha window. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. SCOTT turns slowly n' sees dat itz a playa holdin a knife. Da playa stabs SCOTT twice, cappin' his muthafuckin ass. Blood flows from his crazy-ass grill.


	2. ACT ONE

EXT. LAKESIDE - DAY

A continuation from tha final scene of  _[Croatoan](http://www.supernaturalwiki.com/index.php?title=2.09_Croatoan_\(transcript\))_ : Da Impala is parked under a tree, n' SAM n' DEAN is drankin brew by tha fence round a lil' small-ass lake.

 **DEAN  
** Before Dad took a dirt nap he, tha pimpin' muthafucka holla'd at mah crazy ass suttin'- suttin' bout you, biatch.

 **SAM  
** What, biatch? Dean, what tha fuck did tha pimpin' muthafucka tell yo slick ass?

 **DEAN  
** Dude holla'd dat da thug wanted mah crazy ass ta peep up fo' you, ta take care of you, biatch.

 **SAM  
** Dude holla'd at you dat a mazillion times. 

 **DEAN  
** Fuck dat shit, dis time was different yo. Dude holla'd dat I had ta save you, biatch.

 **SAM  
** Save me from what?

 **DEAN  
** Dude just holla'd dat I had ta save you, dat not a god damn thang else mattered; n' dat if I couldn't, I'd . . . 

 **SAM  
** You'd what, Dean?

 **DEAN  
** That I'd gotta bust a cap up in you, biatch yo. Dude holla'd dat I might gotta bust a cap up in you, Sammy. 

 **SAM  
** Bust a cap up in me son, biatch? What tha hell is dat supposed ta mean?

 **DEAN  
** I don't give a gangbangin' fuck.

 **SAM  
** I mean, he must have had some kind of reason fo' sayin it, right, biatch? Did he know tha demonz plans fo' me son, biatch? Am I supposed ta go Darkside or something, biatch? What else did da perved-out muthafucka say, Dean?

 **DEAN  
** Nothing, thatz it, I swear. Shiiit, dis aint no joke. 

 **SAM  
** How tha fuck could you not have holla'd at mah crazy ass this?

 **DEAN  
** Because dat shiznit was Dad, n' his thugged-out lil' punk-ass begged mah crazy ass not to. 

 **SAM  
** Dum diddy-dum, here I come biaaatch! Who tha fuck cares?! Take some responsibilitizzle fo' yo ass, Dean! Yo ass had no right ta keep dis from me biaatch!

 **DEAN  
** Yo ass be thinkin I wanted this, biatch? Huh, biatch? I wish ta Dogg he'd never opened his crazy-ass grill. Then I wouldn't gotta strutt round wit dis beatboxin up in mah head all day.

SAM turns n' takes all dem steps away, fuming. 

 **SAM  
** We've just gots ta git into what tha fuck be happenin, then, what tha fuck tha hell all dis means. 

 **DEAN  
** Us dudes do, biatch? I've been thankin bout this, I be thinkin we should just lay low. Yo ass know, biatch? At least fo' a while. It'd be less thuggy n' shit. And dat way I can make shizzle-

 **SAM  
** What, biatch? That I don't turn evil, biatch? That I don't turn tha fuck into some kind of killer?

 **DEAN  
** I never holla'd all dis bullshit.

 **SAM  
** Jeez, if you not careful yo big-ass booty is ghon gotta waste me one day, Dean. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. 

 **DEAN  
** I never holla'd dat son! Damnit, Sam, dis whole thang is spinnin outta control fo' realz. All right, biatch? Yo ass is immune ta some weirdo demon virus, n' I don't even know what tha fuck tha hell no mo' fo' realz. And you pissed at me, I git dat shit. Thatz fine, I deserve dat shit. But our slick asses lay low until we git into our next move, aiiight?

 **SAM  
** Forget dat shit. 

 **DEAN  
** Sam, please, man. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch yo. Hey,. Biiiatch please.Just break me off some time. Give me some time ta think, aiiight, biatch? I be beggin you here,. Biiiatch please.Please. 

SAM nodz reluctantly.

EXT. VELVET INN MOTEL - NIGHT

SAM leaves a motel room alone, a funky-ass bag over his shoulder n' shiznit yo. Dude strutts on tha fuckin' down-lowly past tha Impala ta a lil' small-ass black car; he opens tha door wit a cold-ass lil coat hanger, looks around, n' gets in. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch yo. Dude drives away.

EXT. CABIN - NIGHT

SAM is standin outside a thugged-out dark house, holdin a piece of motel stationary from Da Blue Rose Motel, wit a address freestyled on it yo. Dude approaches tha doggy den cautiously yo. Dude picks tha lock n' enters; tha doggy den is dark fo' realz. As he passes all up in tha doorway tha pimpin' muthafucka trips a wire at floor level, which triggers a grenade. Well shiiiit, it explodes; da perved-out muthafucka screams fo' realz. A close blasted of his tokin boots dissolves tha fuck into a gangbangin' flash of light, then into:

INT. BEDROOM - NIGHT

AVA, a lil' biatch (born up in 1983, like?) wakes up from tha vision/nightmare, gasping. Da MAN behind her stirs.

 **MAN  
** Yo, honey?

 **AVA  
** Oh. 

 **MAN  
** Yo ass aiiight?

 **AVA  
** Fuck dat shit, I just had another nightmare. It aint nuthin but fine, itz nothing. Just go back ta chill. 

 **MAN  
** Yo ass sure?

 **AVA  
** Yeah.

She lies down again, still panting. 


	3. ACT TWO

INT. ROADHOUSE - NIGHT

SAM entas tha ROADHOUSE, n' headz turn, so check it before ya wreck it. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. ELLEN is behind tha bar, n' looks up as he approaches. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. Biatch smilez knowingly.

 **ELLEN  
** Sam. 

 **SAM**  
Yo, Ellen.  
(grinnin sheepishly)  
Yo ass don't seem dat surprised ta peep mah dirty ass.

 **ELLEN  
** Well, yo' brotherz been calling, worried sick, lookin fo' you, biatch. 

 **SAM  
** Yeah. Figured he might. 

 **ELLEN  
** Whatz goin on between you two?

 **SAM  
** So, um, howz Jo?

 **ELLEN**  
(nodding)  
Well, I don't straight-up know.

 **SAM  
** What do you mean?

 **ELLEN  
** Well, I aint peeped her up in weeks. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. Biatch sendz a postcard now n' again. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. 

 **SAM  
** Well, what tha fuck happened?

 **ELLEN  
** Well, afta dat biiiiatch hit dat shiznit dat thang wit you thugs her dope ass decided dat biiiiatch wanted ta keep on hunting. I holla'd "not under mah roof", n' her big-ass booty holla'd "fine". 

 **SAM  
** So I be probably tha last thug you wanna peep n' aint a thugged-out damn thang dat yo' ass can do. 

 **ELLEN**  
(throaty chuckle)  
Oh, don't git me wrong. I wish I could blame tha hell outta you thugs. It'd be easier n' shit. Truth is, it aint yo' fault. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. Sam. None of it is. I want you ta know dat I forgave yo' daddy a long-ass time ago fo' what tha fuck happened ta mah Bizzle. I just don't be thinkin he eva forgave his dirty ass. 

 **SAM  
** What did happen?

 **ELLEN  
** Um, so, why did you come here, dopeie?

 **SAM**  
I need help.  


  
LATER

ELLEN n' SAM is poppin' off ta ASH, whoz ass is lookin round furtively. 

 **ASH  
** What is I lookin for, Sam?

 **SAM  
** Other people, other psychos, like mah dirty ass fo' realz. As nuff as possible, n' I need a nationwide search.

 **ELLEN  
** But I thought there was no way ta track dem all down. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. Not all of dem had nursery fires like you done did.

 **SAM**  
Well, no yo, but some had to. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. Start there, so peek-a-boo, clear tha way, I be comin' thru fo'sho.   


  
LATER

ASH emerges from his back room wit a piece of paper up in his hand. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! Dude gives it a gangbangin' flourish.

 **ASH  
** Done, n' done. 

 **SAM  
** That was fast. 

 **ASH  
** Well, apparently, thatz mah thang. Make tha monkey dizzle all up in tha keyboard. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! 

 **ELLEN  
** Just tell our asses what tha fuck you got, Ash.

 **ASH  
** Four folks fit tha flava nationwide. Born up in '83, mutha took a dirt nap up in a nursery fire, tha whole shebang.

 **SAM  
** Four, biatch? Thatz it?

 **ASH  
** Sam Winchesta from Lawrence, Kansas, Max Milla from Saginaw, Michigan, Andrew Gallagher from Guthrie, Oklahoma, n' uh, another name. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. Scott Carey. 

 **SAM  
** Yo ass gots a address?

 **ASH  
** Kind of. Da Arbor Hill Cemetery up in Lafayette, Indiana. Plot four-eighty-six. 

 **SAM  
** So da ruffneck dead?

 **ASH  
** Killed, on some month ago. 

 **SAM  
** Killed how?

 **ASH  
** Stabbed. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! Parkin lot. Fuzz aint gots much, no suspects, 

 **SAM  
** All right. Nuff props, biatch. 

As he gets up ta leave, ASH slaps his ass on tha back; when he outta eyeshot ASH picks up SAM'S half-full brew n' starts drankin dat shit. 

 **ELLEN  
** Where is you going?

 **SAM  
** Indiana.

 **ELLEN  
** Sam, biatch? I've gotta call Dean, I've gotta let his ass know where yo ass is. 

 **SAM  
** Ellen. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. I be tryin ta find lyrics, bout whoz ass I am fo' realz. And mah brutha means well yo, but his schmoooove ass can't protect me from dis shit. Please.

ELLEN nodz reluctantly.  


  
INT. CAREY HOUSE - DAY

SAM is chillin wit SCOTT'S daddy up in his fuckin livin room, rappin'.

**CAREY  
** So you say you went ta high school wit Scott?

**SAM  
** Uh, yeaaaa sir, I done did. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! I just heard bout what tha fuck happened, I be soopa-doopa sorry bout dat bullshit.

**CAREY  
** Scotty was a phat pimp yo. Dude chizzled a shitload since you knew his muthafuckin ass. 

**SAM  
** What do you mean?

**CAREY  
** It started on some year ago wit these headaches fo' realz. And then he gots pissed off, paranoid, nightmares.

**SAM  
** Nightmares, biatch? Um, did he eva rap ta you bout his nightmares, biatch? What da perved-out muthafucka saw, or, 

**CAREY  
** Fuck dat shit, no yo. Dude closed up wit mah dirty ass. I tried ta git his ass help yo, but not a god damn thang took yo. He'd just lock his dirty ass up in his bangin room fo' days.

**SAM**  
Yo ass be thinkin maybe I could peep his bangin room?  


  
INT. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. SCOTT'S ROOM - DAY

SAM pokes around. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! Da room gotz nuff a funky-ass bare bed wit a chillin bag, some bookshelves covered up in books n' cassette tapes. On tha bedside table da perved-out muthafucka sees nuff muthafuckin bottlez of pizzles, prescribed by Dr. Shiiit, dis aint no joke. George Waxla n' shit. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. SAM looks behind him, then pockets one bottle. Dude opens SCOTT'S closet n' shoves aside tha threadz ta reveal a cold-ass lil collage of yellow eyes cut outta photos or magazines, glued ta tha wall yo. Dude stares.   


  
EXT. BLUE ROSE MOTEL - NIGHT

SAM strutts across tha parkin lot fo' realz. As he gets ta tha door da perved-out muthafucka senses his thugged-out lil' punk-ass bein followed; tha pimpin' muthafucka turns n' grabs tha figure behind him, shovin her against tha wall. Well shiiiit, it is AVA.

 **SAM  
** Dum diddy-dum, here I come biaaatch! Who tha fuck is yo slick ass?

 **AVA**  
Please biaaatch! Yo ass is up in dark shiznit n' shit.   


  
INT. BLUE ROSE MOTEL - NIGHT

AVA is pacing, poppin' off somewhat frantically.

 **AVA  
** Okay, look, I know how tha fuck all dis soundz yo, but I aint crazy n' I aint on sticky-icky-ickys. Okay, biatch? I be normal, n' dis is way, way off tha map fo' mah dirty ass. 

 **SAM  
** All right, all right, just, just quit trippin' out. Okay, biatch? Whatz yo' name?

 **AVA  
** Ava.

 **SAM  
** Ava?

 **AVA  
** Ava Wilson.

 **SAM  
** Ava, I be Sam Winchester, all right, biatch? Now, you was spittin some lyrics ta me bout these tripz of yours?

 **AVA  
** Uh, yeah, uh, aiiight, on some year ago I started havin these, like, headaches, n' just, nightmares, I guess fo' realz. And I straight-up didn't be thinkin much of it until I had dis one trip where I saw dis muthafucka git jabbed up in a parkin lot. 

 **SAM  
** When was this?

 **AVA  
** Uh, on some month ago. But, anyway, a cold-ass lil couple minutes later, I found all dis bullshit.

She pulls up a newspaper clippin n' handz it ta SAM; it readz "LOCAL MAN STABBED TO DEATH IN PARKING LOT" next ta a picture of SCOTT CAREY. SAM takes tha clipping. 

 **AVA  
** I saw dis muthafucka die, minutes before it happened. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! I don't give a fuck why, I don't give a fuck, itz just fo' some reason, mah trips is comin true fo' realz. And last night I had another one. 

 **SAM  
** Okay.

 **AVA  
** Bout you, biatch. I saw you take a thugged-out dirt nap. 

 **SAM  
** How tha fuck did you find mah crazy ass son?

 **AVA  
** Oh, uh, you had motel stationary, n' I Googled tha motel, n' dat shiznit was real, n' so I just thought dat I should warn you, biatch. 

 **SAM  
** I don't believe all dis bullshit. 

 **AVA  
** Oh, oh, of course you don't. Yo ass be thinkin I be a total nutjob. 

 **SAM  
** Wait, no, no, no, I mean, you must be one of us. 

 **AVA  
** Sorry, one of, one of who?

 **SAM  
** One of tha Psychics. Like mah dirty ass. Look, Ava, I have visions too, all right, biatch? So we connected. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! This type'a shiznit happens all tha time. 

 **AVA**  
(laughs)  
Okay, so, you nuts, n' you can put dat on yo' toast. Thatz pimped out. 

 **SAM  
** Okay, aiiight, look. Did yo' mutha happen ta take a thugged-out dirtnap up in a doggy den fire?

 **AVA  
** Fuck dat shit, mah mutha lives up in Palm Beach!

 **SAM  
** So you don't fit tha pattern either n' shit. 

AVA frowns at his ass up in mad drama.  


  
EXT. BLACKTOP - NIGHT

DEAN is rollin alone, n' his cell beeper rings yo. Dude picks up.

 **DEAN  
** Hello?

 **ELLEN**  
(at tha ROADHOUSE)  
It aint nuthin but Ellen. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. 

 **DEAN  
** Yo, have you heard from Sam?

 **ELLEN  
** I have yo, but he made me promise not ta rap where he is. 

 **DEAN  
** Come on, Ellen,. Biiiatch please.Somethang shitty could be goin on here, n' I swore I'd look afta dat kid.

 **ELLEN**  
Now Dean, they say you can't protect yo' loved ones forever n' shit.   
(beat)  
Well, I say screw dis shit. What else is crew for, biatch? Dat punk up in Lafayette, Indiana.

 **DEAN**  
Thanks.  


  
INT. BLUE ROSE MOTEL - NIGHT

 **AVA  
** Why can't you just leave town, biatch? Please, biatch? Before you blow up?

 **SAM  
** Fuck dat shit, I can't. 

 **AVA  
** Oh, god. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! Why not?

 **SAM  
** Because there be a suttin' goin on here, Ava. With you, wit mah dirty ass. I mean, there be others like our asses up there, so peek-a-boo, clear tha way, I be comin' thru fo'sho fo' realz. And we all a part of something, n' I've gots ta git into what.

 **AVA**  
Okay. you know what, biatch? Screw you, dawg. Okay, biatch? Because I be a secretary from Peoria n' I aint part of anything! Okay, biatch? Do you peep this?  
(she fingers her engagement ring)  
I be gettin hooked up in eight weeks. I be supposed ta be up in da crib addressin invitations, which I be way behind on, by tha way. But instead, I drove up here ta save yo' weirdo ass. But if you just wanna stay here n' die, fine. Me, biatch? I be due back on Hood Earth. 

 **SAM**  
Don't you wanna know why dis is happening, biatch? I mean, don't these visions scare tha hell outta yo slick ass, biatch? Because if you strutt up dat door right now you might never know tha real deal. It aint nuthin but tha nick nack patty wack, I still gots tha bigger sack. I need yo' help.  


  
INT. DR. WAXLER'S OFFICE - DAY

AVA is chillin up in WAXLER'S crib up in a therapy session, ta cover fo' SAM'S mission of covert theft.

 **WAXLER  
** So, Ms. Wilson, you freshly smoked up in town. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. 

 **AVA  
** Thatz right.

 **WAXLER  
** And what tha fuck made you decided ta seek up therapy?

 **AVA  
** I have no idea.

 **WAXLER  
** No?

 **AVA  
** No. I mean, I be feelin straight-up supa anxious up in dis biatch, 

 **WAXLER  
** Okay, anythang else?

 **AVA**  
Um . . .  
(she sees SAM inchin by on tha window ledge outside)  
Holy crap!

 **WAXLER**  
What?  
(he turns ta tha window as all dem pigeons fly off)

 **AVA**  
I just remembered, when I was a kid, I swallowed like, eight thangz of pop rocks n' then drank a whole can of coke, you don't be thinkin dat that counts as a suicizzle attempt, do yo slick ass?  


  
INT. BLUE ROSE MOTEL - DAY

AVA n' SAM return ta tha motel room wit SCOTT'S filez fo' realz. AVA looks stunned. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! 

 **SAM  
** Is you aiiight?

 **AVA  
** Am I aiiight?

 **SAM  
** Yeah.

 **AVA**  
I just helped you loot some dead muthafuckaz confidential psych files. I be phat biaatch!  


  
LATER

Da voice recorder from tha Teaser is chillin on tha table, next ta a open file folda n' shit. A record from tha therapy session is playing.

 **SCOTT'S VOICE  
** It started a lil over a year ago. Migraines, at first. Then I found I could do . . . stuff. 

 **WAXLER'S VOICE  
** What do you mean, do stuff?

 **SCOTT'S VOICE**  
I have dis ability. When I bust a nut on something, I can electrocute it if I want.   


  
EXT. BLUE ROSE MOTEL - DAY

DEAN pulls tha fuck into tha parkin lot up in tha Impala; when da perved-out muthafucka sees SAM all up in tha window of his bangin room da perved-out muthafucka sighs up in relief. 

 **DEAN  
** Oh, give props ta god you aiiight.

SAM moves aside, revealin AVA all up in tha window. DEAN smiles.

 **DEAN**  
Oh, you betta than aiiight. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. Sam, you sly dog!  


  
INT. BLUE ROSE MOTEL - DAY

Da recordin continues; SAM is leanin over tha table, lookin mo' concerned. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! 

 **WAXLER'S VOICE  
** What else do tha yellow-eyed playa say?

 **SCOTT'S VOICE**  
Dude has plans fo' mah dirty ass yo. Dude say there be a a war coming. That playas like me, we goin ta be tha soldiers. Everythingz bout ta chizzle.   
(the recordin ends)

 **AVA  
** Dat punk not poppin' off bout us, right?

 **SAM  
** Yeah, I be thinkin he is. 

 **AVA  
** But how tha fuck can we turn tha fuck into that?

 **SAM  
** I don't - 

Da window above SAM'S head shattas as itz hit wit a funky-ass cap yo. Dude dives ta tha floor wit AVA, shieldin her body wit his. 

 **SAM  
** Git down!

 **AVA**  
Oh mah god dawwwg!  


  
EXT. MOTEL - DAY

Across tha street, GORDON is on a rooftop wit a sniper rifle; his schmoooove ass continues ta take aim n' fire all up in tha motel room.  


  
INT. MOTEL - DAY

 **AVA  
** Whatz happening?

 **SAM**  
I don't give a gangbangin' fuck.  


  
EXT MOTEL - DAY

As GORDON be bout ta take another head-shot at SAM, DEAN jumps his ass from behind.

 **DEAN  
** Gordon!

DEAN kicks GORDON hard, then pins his ass down on his back, hittin his ass over n' over again n' again n' again up in tha grill yo. Dude grabs his ass by tha collar.

 **DEAN  
** Yo ass do dat ta mah brother, I be bout ta bust a cap up in you, nahmean biiiatch?

 **GORDON  
** Dean, wait.

GORDON manages ta grab tha rifle n' slam it tha fuck into DEAN twice, knockin his ass up yo. Dude standz over DEAN, pantin n' gushin blood from his fuckin lip. 


	4. ACT THREE

EXT. MOTEL ROOF - DAY

AVA n' SAM rewind tha roof from which GORDON was blastin at dem wild-ass muthafuckas. 

 **AVA  
** Wait, I don't understand. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! Shouldn't we be poppin' off ta tha cops?

 **SAM**  
Trust me, dat wouldn't do our asses much good. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! I be fly as a gangbangin' falcon, soarin all up in tha sky dawwwwg!   
(pickin up a gangbangin' finger-lickin' dirty-ass shell)  
These is .223 caliber n' shit. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. Subsonic rounds. Da muthafucka must have put a suppressor on tha rifle.

 **AVA  
** Dude, whoz ass is yo slick ass?

 **SAM  
** Oh. I just, uh, I just peep a shitload of TJ Hooker n' shit. 

Dude pulls up his beeper. Shiiit, dis aint no joke. 

 **AVA  
** Dum diddy-dum, here I come biaaatch! Who tha fuck is you calling?

 **SAM**  
My fuckin brutha n' shit. I be thinkin our phat asses definitely need help.   


  
INT. CABIN - DAY

DEAN is tied ta a cold-ass lil chair, n' GORDON is holdin tha beeper ta his wild lil' fuckin ear. Shiiit, dis aint no joke. 

 **DEAN  
** Hello?

 **SAM  
** Dean!

 **DEAN  
** Sam, I've been lookin fo' you, biatch. 

 **SAM  
** Yeah. Look, I be up in Indiana, uh Lafayette. 

 **DEAN  
** I know. 

 **SAM  
** Yo ass do?

 **DEAN  
** Yeah, I talked ta Ellen. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. Just gots here mah dirty ass. It aint nuthin but a real funky town. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. Yo ass ditched me, Sammy.

 **SAM  
** Yeah, I be sorry as a muthafucka bout dat bullshit. Look, right now there be a one of mah thugs afta mah dirty ass.

 **DEAN  
** What, biatch? Who?

 **SAM  
** I don't give a fuck, thatz what tha fuck we need ta smoke up. Where is yo slick ass?

 **DEAN  
** I be stayin at, uh, 5637 Monroe St. Why don't you hook up wit me here?

 **SAM**  
Yeah. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. Sure.  
(hangs up.)  


  
INT. CABIN - NIGHT

 **GORDON  
** Now, was dat so hard?

 **DEAN**  
Bite mah dirty ass.  


  
EXT. MOTEL ROOF - DAY

SAM is puttin his beeper away, lookin worried.

 **AVA  
** What tha fuck iz it?

 **SAM  
** My fuckin brotherz up in shit. 

 **AVA  
** What?

 **SAM  
** Dude gave me a cold-ass lil codeword. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! Someonez gots a glock on his muthafuckin ass. 

 **AVA  
** Codeword?

 **SAM**  
Yeah. Funkytown. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch.   
(beat)  
Well, tha pimpin' muthafucka thought of dat shit. It aint nuthin but kind of a . . .long story. I ... come on. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch.   


  
INT. CABIN - DAY

GORDON has his back ta DEAN; he opens a cold-ass lil canvas bag n' starts pullin up weapons.

 **DEAN  
** So Gordy. I know me n' Sam ain't exactly yo' straight-up playas yo, but don't you be thinkin dis be a lil extreme?

 **GORDON  
** What, you be thinkin dis is revenge?

 **DEAN**  
Well, our phat asses did leave you tied up in yo' own mess fo' three days.   
(laughs)  
Which was phat. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. Sorry, I shouldn't laugh. 

 **GORDON  
** Yeah. I was definitely plannin on whuppin' yo' ass fo' dis shit. 

 **DEAN  
** Mm-hmm.

 **GORDON  
** But thatz not what tha fuck dis is. This aint personal. It aint nuthin but tha nick nack patty wack, I still gots tha bigger sack. I aint a killer, Dean. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. I be a hustla n' shiznit fo' realz. And yo' brotherz fair game. 

Dude slams a knife tha fuck into its sheath; cut ta DEAN'S shocked face.  


  
EXT. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. STREET - DAY

SAM n' AVA approach her blue VW beetle.

 **AVA  
** I don't be thinkin I should muthafuckin bounce.

 **SAM  
** I want you outta harmz way, Ava.

 **AVA  
** What bout yo slick ass?

 **SAM  
** Harmz way don't straight-up bother mah dirty ass. 

 **AVA  
** Fuck dat shiznit yo, but yo ass is struttin right tha fuck into mah vision. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. I mean, dis is how tha fuck you take a thugged-out dirt nap. 

 **SAM  
** Doesn't matter n' shit. It aint nuthin but mah brutha n' shit. 

 **AVA  
** Maybe I could help!

 **SAM  
** You've done all you can. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. Just, just go back ta yo' fiance. 

 **AVA  
** Is you sure?

 **SAM  
** Yes, I be sure. Go home, Ava. You'll be safe there, so peek-a-boo, clear tha way, I be comin' thru fo'sho. 

 **AVA**  
(she gets up in tha car)  
Well, just, promise me you gonna call, then. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. I mean, when you git yo' brother, just ta let me know dat every last muthafuckin thangz all right. 

 **SAM**  
I promise.   


  
INT. CABIN - DAY

GORDON is leanin against a pillar, cradlin a rifle n' bustin lyrics casually.

 **GORDON  
** See, I was bustin a exorcizzle down up in Louisiana. Teenage girl, seemed routine, some low-level demon. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. But between all tha jabberin n' tha head-spinning, tha damn thang muttered somethang fo' realz. On some cold-ass lil comin war fo' realz. And I don't be thinkin it meant to, it just kind of slipped out. But dat shiznit was too late. Piqued mah interest fo' realz. And you can straight-up cook up a thugged-out demon talk, you gots tha right tools. 

 **DEAN  
** And what tha fuck happened ta tha hoe dat shiznit was possessing?

 **GORDON  
** Bitch didn't make dat shit.

 **DEAN**  
(bobbin his head)  
Well, you a lil hustla of a funky-ass biiiatch.

GORDON stares, stands, n' slaps his muthafuckin ass.

 **GORDON**  
Thatz mah momma you poppin' off about.   
(beat)  
Anyway. This demon drops some lyrics ta me there be soldiers ta fight up in dis comin war yo. Humans, fightin on hellz side. Yo ass believe that, biatch? I mean, they psychos, so they not exactly pure humans yo, but still. What kind of worthless scumbag have you gots ta be ta turn against yo' own race?  
(DEAN glares)  
But you know tha freshest kick up in tha ass, biatch? This demon holla'd I knew one of dem wild-ass muthafuckas. Our straight-up own Sammy Winchesta n' shit. 

 **DEAN**  
(chuckles)  
Oh, dis is ... dis be a whole freshly smoked up level of moronic, even fo' you, biatch. 

 **GORDON  
** Yeah, biatch? Come on, Dean. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. I know fo' realz. Bout Samz visions. I know every last muthafuckin thang. 

 **DEAN**  
Really, biatch? Because a thugged-out demon holla'd at yo slick ass?  
(laughs)  
Yeah, n' it wasn't lying. 

 **GORDON**  
Yo, Dean. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. I aint some reckless yahoo, aiiight, biatch? I did mah homework. Made damn shizzle dat shiznit was true. Look, you've gots yo' Roadhouse connections, I gots mine. It aint nuthin but how tha fuck I found Sammy up in tha straight-up original gangsta place.   
(he crosses ta tha corner n' sits)  
On some month ago I found another one of these freaks here up in town. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch yo. Dude could deep-fry a thug just by touchin dem wild-ass muthafuckas. 

 **DEAN  
** Yeah, did he bust a cap up in mah playas?

 **GORDON**  
Well, besides Mista Muthafuckin Tinklez tha cat, biatch? No. But da thug was hustlin up ta dat shit. They're all gonna be killers, Dean. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. We've gots ta take dem all up fo' realz. And dat means Sammy like a muthafucka.   
(he cocks tha rifle)

 **DEAN  
** Yo ass be thinkin Samz wack enough ta strutt all up in dat front door?

 **GORDON**  
Fuck dat shit, I don't. Especially since I be shizzle you found a way ta warn his muthafuckin ass yo. Ha. Yo ass straight-up be thinkin I be dat stupid?  
(DEAN raises his wild lil' fuckin eyebrows meaningfully; GORDON standz n' starts pacing. )  
No. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. Sammyz goin ta scope tha place first, peep me coverin tha front door. Shiiit, dis aint no joke. So he goin ta take tha back fo' realz. And when da ruffneck do he'll hit tha tripwire. Then --   
(he takes a grenade from his bag)  
Boom.

 **DEAN  
** Samz not gonna fall fo' a gangbangin' friggin' tripwire.

 **GORDON**  
Maybe you right. Thatz why I be bout ta gotz a second one.   
(beat)  
Yo, look. I be sorry as a muthafucka bout dat bullshit. I wish I didn't gotta do this, I straight-up do. But fo' what tha fuck itz worth, it'll be quick. 

 


	5. ACT FOUR

INT. CABIN - NIGHT

Close blasted of GORDON settin up tha tripwire across tha back doorway; he returns ta tha room where DEAN is tied up n' straddlez a cold-ass lil chair. Shiiit, dis aint no joke. 

 **DEAN  
** Come on, man. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. I know Sam, aiiight, betta than mah playas. Dat punk gots mo' of a cold-ass lil conscience than I do, I mean, tha muthafucka feels guilty surfin tha Internizzle fo' porn, so check it before ya wreck it. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. 

 **GORDON  
** Maybe you right. But one dizzle he goin ta be a monsta n' shit. 

 **DEAN  
** How, biatch? Huh, biatch? Howz a muthafucka like Sam become a monster?

 **GORDON  
** Beats mah dirty ass. But da thug will. 

 **DEAN  
** Fuck dat shit, you don't give a fuck dat playa!

 **GORDON  
** I be surprised at you, Dean. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. Gettin all wack. It aint nuthin but tha nick nack patty wack, I still gots tha bigger sack. I'd heard you was mo' of a professionizzle than all dis bullshit. Look, letz say you was cruisin round up in dat hoopty of yours and, uh, you had lil Hitla ridin shotgun, right, biatch? Back when da thug was just some goofy, crappy artist. But you knew what tha fuck da thug was goin ta turn tha fuck into someday. It make me wanna hollar playa! You'd take his ass out, no thangs, is I right?

 **DEAN  
** Thatz not Sam.

 **GORDON**  
Yes yes y'all, it is. Yo ass just can't peep it yet. Dean, itz his fuckin lil' destiny. Look, I be sympathetic. Dat punk yo' brother, you ludd tha muthafucka. This has gots ta hurt like hell fo' you, biatch.   
(he reaches tha fuck into his bag n' pulls up a scarf, stands)  
But herez tha thang.  
(he gags DEAN wit tha scarf)  
It would wreck his muthafuckin ass. But yo' dad, biatch? If it straight-up came right down ta it, da thug would have had tha stones ta do tha right thang here, so peek-a-boo, clear tha way, I be comin' thru fo'sho. But you spittin some lyrics ta me you not tha playa he is?

DEAN glares furiously.  


  
EXT. CABIN - NIGHT

Just like AVA'S vision from ACT ONE, SAM approaches tha cabin, holdin up tha shizzle of motel stationery yo. Dude sees DEAN, n' GORDON, all up in tha boarded-up window, then runs round back yo. Dude tries tha door n' findz it locked; he pulls up his fuckin lockpick n' works it open. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch.   


  
INT. CABIN - NIGHT

Da clicks from tha door can be heard up in tha front room; DEAN looks round wildly.

 **GORDON  
** Ya hear him?

In tha back room, SAM gets tha door open n' creeps in.

 **GORDON  
** Here his schmoooove ass comes. 

DEAN flinches helplessly as tha straight-up original gangsta grenade explodes yo. Dude screams at GORDON all up in his wild lil' freakadelic gag.

 **GORDON  
** Hold on. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. Not yet. Just wait n' see. 

As tha second grenade goes off, DEAN strugglez violently, choke-sobbin all up in tha gag. GORDON crosses tha room n' stops beside his muthafuckin ass. 

 **GORDON  
** Sorry, Dean.

Dude goes tha fuck into tha back room, rifle ready yo. Dude sees Samz tokin boots on tha ground, just like up in tha vision. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch yo. Dude smilez but is still wary fo' realz. As tha pimpin' muthafucka turns away from tha back door, SAM raises a glock ta tha back of GORDON'S head n' cocks dat shit. 

 **SAM**  
(low, warning)  
Drop tha gun. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. 

 **GORDON  
** Shouldn't take yo' Nikes off round here, so peek-a-boo, clear tha way, I be comin' thru fo'sho. Yo ass might git tetanus. 

 **SAM**  
(shouting)  
Put it down now!

In tha front room, DEAN turns, hearin SAM'S voice, n' grunts up in relief. Out back, GORDON slowly lowers tha rifle ta tha floor.

 **GORDON  
** Yo ass wouldn't blast me, would you, Sammy, biatch? Because yo' brother, tha pimpin' muthafucka be thinkin you some kind of saint. 

 **SAM  
** Yeah, biatch? Well, I wouldn't be all kindsa sure. 

 **GORDON  
** See, thatz what tha fuck I holla'd. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! 

Dude turns quickly, knockin tha glock outta SAM'S hand n' comin' at his ass methodically until he goes down. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. In tha front room, DEAN hears tha scuffle n' strugglez against tha ropes, groanin up in frustration. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. Out back, GORDON slowly approaches SAM, whoz flat on his back, coughing. GORDON pulls up his knife.

 **GORDON  
** Yo ass is no betta than tha filthy thangs you hunt. 

As GORDON raises tha knife, SAM lashes out, flippin GORDON over n' shiznit yo. Dude punches his ass twice, then grabs tha rifle n' points it at his head. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! 

 **GORDON  
** Do dat shit. Do dat shiznit son! Show yo' brutha tha killa you straight-up are, Sammy. 

SAM hesitates, then slams tha booty of tha rifle tha fuck into GORDON'S head, knockin his ass out.

 **SAM**  
(fuming)  
It aint nuthin but Sam.

INT. CABIN (FRONT ROOM) - NIGHT

SAM shufflez exhaustedly tha fuck into tha room where DEAN is tied up; DEAN looks up wackly as da thug watches SAM approach. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. SAM claps his ass on tha shoulder as he kneels beside him, untyin tha ropes. DEAN pulls off his own gag frantically, stands, n' pulls SAM up ta standin yo. Dude cups his hand round SAM'S neck, starin at his ass closely, catalogin his wild lil' fuck-ups, n' Sam nodz at his muthafuckin ass. n' SAM claps a hand ta DEAN'S shoulder n' shit. DEAN wheels round ta head ta tha back room. 

 **DEAN  
** That lil hustla of a . . .

 **SAM  
** Dean. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. No.

 **DEAN  
** I let his ass live once. I aint makin tha same fuck up twice. 

 **SAM  
** Trust mah dirty ass. Gordonz taken care of. Come on.

Dude reaches up n' fists DEAN'S jacket, pullin his ass towardz tha front door. Shiiit, dis aint no joke.   


  
EXT. CABIN - NIGHT

SAM n' DEAN strutt -- Sam staggerin -- down tha steps from tha cabin n' away from dat shit. Moments lata GORDON emerges, a glock up in each hand, n' begins firing. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. SAM n' DEAN duck n' run fo' cover n' shit. 

 **DEAN**  
Come on! (As they run:) Yo ass call dis taken care of?  
(They dive tha fuck into a gangbangin' finger-lickin' ditch by tha side of tha road n' huddle, watchin his ass approach.)  
What tha hell is our phat asses bustin?

 **SAM  
** Just trust me on this, all right?

As GORDON approaches, three five-o cars, sirens blaring, pull tha fuck into tha clearin n' surround GORDON. Cops emerge, weapons ready. 

 **COP 1  
** Drop yo' weapons muthafucka! Git down on yo' knees!

 **COP 2  
** Do it, now!

SAM n' DEAN grin at each other as GORDON drops ta his knees. GORDON glares up in they direction.

 **COP 2  
** Put yo' handz on yo' head. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! Easy now, nahmeean, biatch? 

Da cop cuffs GORDON n' pats his ass down, then leadz his ass ta a squad hoopty fo' realz. Another opens tha back door of GORDON'S red hoopty n' pulls up tha weapons rack.

 **SAM  
** Anonymous tip. 

 **DEAN  
** Yo ass be a gangbangin' fine upstandin playa hater, Sam. 


	6. ACT FIVE

EXT yo. HARVELLE'S ROADHOUSE - NIGHT

Inside, ELLEN is on tha phone, poppin' off ta DEAN n' keepin her voice down. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. 

 **ELLEN**  
Gordon Walker was hustlin Sam?  


  
EXT. ROAD - NIGHT

 **DEAN**  
(on tha phone, outside; SAM is up in tha car, lookin at his own cellphone.)  
Yeah, he almost capped our asses both cuz some muthafucka over there can't keep they friggin' grill shut. 

 **ELLEN  
** And you straight-up be thinkin dat dat shiznit was me son, biatch? Or Ash, biatch? Or Jo, biatch? No way. 

 **DEAN  
** Well, whoz ass else knows bout Sam, huh, biatch? (Dean turns ta peep Sam up in tha car.) I mean, you must done been poppin' off ta some muthafucka.

 **ELLEN  
** Yo, you can say a shitload of thangs bout us. But we aint disloyal. It aint nuthin but tha nick nack patty wack, I still gots tha bigger sack fo' realz. And our asses aint fuckin wack. We aint breathed a word of all dis bullshit. 

 **DEAN  
** Gordon holla'd dat schmoooove muthafucka had Roadhouse connections, Ellen. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. 

 **ELLEN**  
And dis roadhouse is full of other hunters. They're all smart. They're phat trackers. Each of dem wit they own patterns n' connections. Look, hell, I could name twelve of dem right now dat is capable of puttin dis together n' shit.   
(sighs)  
I be sorry bout what tha fuck happened, Dean. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. But I can't control these people. Or what tha fuck they chizzle ta believe.   


  
EXT. ROAD - NIGHT

DEAN is driving; SAM is poppin' off on his thugged-out lil' phone.

 **SAM  
** Yo, Ava, itz Sam fo' realz. Again. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. Um, call me when you git this, just wanna make shizzle you gots home aiiight fo' realz. All right. Bye. 

 **DEAN  
** Everythang all right?

 **SAM  
** Yeah, I hope so. 

 **DEAN  
** Well, Gordon should be reachin fo' tha soap fo' tha next few muthafuckin years at least. 

 **SAM  
** Yeah. If they pin Scott Careyz cappin' on his muthafuckin ass fo' realz. And if da ruffneck don't bust out. 

(Pause)

 **DEAN  
** Dude, you eva take off like dat again n' again n' again . . . 

 **SAM  
** What, biatch? You'll bust a cap up in me son?

 **DEAN  
** That is so not funky. 

 **SAM**  
(laughs)  
All right. All right. So where ta next, then?

 **DEAN  
** One word: Amsterdam.

 **SAM  
** Dean!

 **DEAN  
** Come on, dude, I hear tha coffeeshops don't even serve coffee. 

 **SAM  
** I aint just gonna ditch tha thang. 

 **DEAN  
** Screw tha thang. Screw it, dude, I be sick of tha thang anyway. I mean, our phat asses don't git paid, our phat asses don't git gave props ta. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! Da only thang we getz shitty luck. 

 **SAM  
** Well, come on, dude, you a hustla n' shit. I mean, itz what tha fuck you was meant ta do.

 **DEAN  
** Ah, I wasn't meant ta do anything, I don't believe up in dat destiny crap.

 **SAM  
** Yo ass mean you don't believe up in mah destiny.

 **DEAN  
** Yeah, whatever n' shit. 

 **SAM  
** Look, Dean, I've tried hustlin before. I mean, I ran all tha way ta California n' look what tha fuck happened. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! Yo ass can't run from all dis bullshit. And you can't protect mah dirty ass. 

Dean looks at his muthafuckin ass.

 **DEAN  
** I can try. 

 **SAM**  
(quietly)  
Thanks fo' all dis bullshit.  
(DEAN nods)  
Look, Dean, I'ma keep hunting. I mean, whatever is coming, I be takin it head-on, so if you straight-up wanna peep mah back, then I guess you gonna gotta stick around. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! 

 **DEAN  
** Bitch.

 **SAM  
** Jerk.

They both grin; afta a funky-ass beat, SAM frowns n' picks up his beeper again.

 **DEAN  
** Yo ass callin dat Ava hoe again, biatch? Yo ass dope on her or something?

 **SAM  
** Dat hoe engaged, Dean.

 **DEAN**  
So, biatch? Whatz tha point up in savin tha ghetto if you can't git a lil nookie once up in a while, huh?  
(SAM hangs up, scowlin up in thought)  
What?

 **SAM**  
Just a gangbangin' feelin yo. How tha fuck far is it ta Peoria, biatch?   


  
EXT fo' realz. AVA WILSON'S HOUSE - NIGHT

SAM n' DEAN do they breakin n' enterin thang, wit flashlights, n' you can put dat on yo' toast. 

 **SAM  
** Hello, biatch? Is anybody home?

They go tha fuck into tha bedroom ta find AVA'S fiizzle dead, face-up on tha bed; his hoodie n' tha sheets is soaked up in blood. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! I be fly as a gangbangin' falcon, soarin all up in tha sky dawwwwg! 

 **SAM  
** Oh mah god.

DEAN runs a gangbangin' finger along tha windowsill, starin all up in tha powdery substizzle collected there.

 **DEAN  
** Hey. (Sam turns. Dean holdz up his wild lil' fingers.) Sulfur. Shiiit, dis aint no joke. Demonz been here, so peek-a-boo, clear tha way, I be comin' thru fo'sho. 

SAM sees suttin' on tha floor n' kneels, pickin it up. Well shiiiit, it is AVA'S engagement ring.

 **SAM**  
(whispers)  
Ava.

 


End file.
